


you know she's a little bit dangerous

by soulffles



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, and rip flug as always, black hat be all up in that pussy!!, gets a little steamy so fair warning, lots of demencia worshipping because that's what we're all about here folks!, this is literally just 10 pages of black hat stubbornly pining after his hot lizard employee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 22:00:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulffles/pseuds/soulffles
Summary: Black Hat's office becomes booty call central and Flug learns to hate open doorways.





	you know she's a little bit dangerous

**Author's Note:**

> you know what’s really sexy? interrupting your ships banging

Black Hat should’ve known better than to request his personal hitman’s presence without warning, mouth in a thin line and hands folded as he sat waiting for mismatched sneakers and long powerful legs to show up.  _ Bring him the sales reports, _ he told her over the loudspeaker, voice low and gravelly because he didn’t think this through enough, as if he didn’t already have a shitload of copies in his own office for his own company. Expecting this outcome, he was immediately very regretful when she arrived— slinking through the door with that roguish, infernal grin that always seemed to set him off— and suddenly the room felt too hot, extremely hot.

There was no sound of a knock because she didn’t bother to knock. The girl was just infuriating like that and she knew it provoked him, but it also sent a wave of something else through him, reflecting some type of unsung closeness, some weird informality thing between the two that made his head throttle with confusion and rage.

Strictly speaking, she was his employee. Obviously. An imbecile could guess that. He hired her for her expertise, which was being a total nutball and swinging at anything he wanted eradicated within a three foot radius. She was his assassin-bodyguard-lizard-hybrid thing and he loathed the fact that she shoved herself into his life so abruptly that he didn’t even have time to process the unbelievably deep shit he’d gotten himself into. What a schmuck he was.

Apparently, she couldn’t trouble herself with closing the door behind her, leaving the vast entryway agape and exposed. Though as his eyes followed the hypnotic way her ass moved in that skirt, he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. And of course she’d forgotten the paperwork, or it was possible she knew the score all too well and Black Hat’s alibi was nothing compared to her wit.

“Hello, Demencia,” he found himself scraping out, fingers impatiently tapping against the oak of his desk, needing something else to temper his emotions with, something else to run his claws down,  _ someone else _ to ease his tension.

Sparing the small talk, she got right to it and flung a leg up on his desk, thwacking over a stack of papers that so happened to be those exact copies he already had. Reading his mind, Demencia pointed her head towards the mess.

“Hope those weren’t too important,” she drawled, hands resting on her black miniskirt in a declaration of power, head proudly tilted up. The look she wore reminded him of the time she stockpiled a bunch of heroes and stolen dynamite in a van and drove it off a cliff, which was actually last Tuesday because he remembered the glorious, glaring explosion thrumming against the night sky and how it reflected in her eyes  _ so very  _ murderously. She wore this big, cheesy grin when he told her nice work, that he was hoping she would think of something creative, these clowns were riding his back for weeks and he wanted to cut the schoolyard bullshit, send them off in style. It was the least he could do for a team a rookies. See, he gave to charity sometimes.

Consequently, she wore that same grin now and Black Hat was a little thrown for a loop because big, heinous, gigantically evil moguls don’t particularly remember small trivial things that stupid lizard girls do, let alone their smiles.

But when he made the mistake of looking up at her, all sturdy curves and tousled hair and that stupid fucking  _ smile _ , his hands instinctively stopped tapping and straightened under the look of heavy-lidded eyes— painted so dark he almost missed that familiar glint of hellacious fire— and suddenly, something in him completely snapped. The next thing he knew, he was hoisting her up on his desk, kneeling on the ground before her, and spreading open her muscled thighs all in one go.  Unequivocally , he blamed his Rusted Shut (Until Recently) libido for this inevitable action.

Demencia, face burning, was quick to respond, grasping the lapels of his jacket and breathing out in a string of laughter. The eldritch listened, antennas curiously quirking up at the golden sound that poured from her lips, caught off guard because he never realized how... _ tolerable _ she could be. This wasn’t her usual haughty cackle that reverberated through any room she was in. This was different, her laugher shaking her shoulders, genuine and charming. The apples of her cheeks were red with mirth and he clenched his hands when he noticed the crinkles of her eyes, like doing that would make the dryness of his throat disappear, or the weird flickering candle feeling in his stomach to go away. 

Her laugher gradually faded out and he continued to tighten his hold on her thighs, fingers raking up her skin. He’s glad that he’d almost forgotten the way her tiny fangs poked out when she smiled, her mouth almost forming a heart with each shaky, elated breath she took. Almost, he thought, relieved, did he reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, catching himself at the last moment. It would be impossible to tame that wild mop of whatever resided on her head, but he liked to think that maybe she wouldn’t mind a stand in place, if he was the one to do it.

_ Alright enough of that blathering schmaltzy horseshit _ , he thought as he now watched Demencia’s tongue flick across her lips, mouth relaxed in a lazy smirk as she felt a claw trace beneath the hem of her skirt, ripping through fabric, drawing red lines across the fleshy underside of her thighs. Her bare skin was flushed and exposed; body, mind, and soul pliable to the touch of evil incarnate before her. It went against his nature to admit, but they shared a certain fervor; a lovely, dark, and deep passion that was indescribable to anyone but them. Such a hideous waltz for two hideous individuals. Very evil and perfect!

And it had to be with her, of all people.  _ Her _ .

This dense, simple-minded, yet lively lackey was good at bringing an otherworldly, grotesque creature like him to his knees. She yearned for him so desperately that somewhere along the way, he started to believe he needed her too. He guessed it was because she was just so captivated with him. Devoted to him. She always  _ did _ keep up with what he needed, and he always accepted what she gave. Only until recently did he start to give back.

However, regardless of her loyal nature towards him, Demencia was ridiculously impossible to tame and out of control in the worst possible way. Black Hat— an ancient demonic being who had conquered worlds and slaughtered thousands— was on the verge of total ruination because this exasperatingly endearing dolt had the audacity to make his coffee every morning with two sugars (just how he liked it) and sashay her reptile rump around the manor like she owned the place, and he ate it all up. It was demoralizing! And he didn’t even have morals! Just because the stupid, curious tilt of her head and the absurdly cute (?) crinkle of her nose when she looked at him made him strangely warm all over didn’t mean anything! He was cold-blooded and she was obviously doing this on purpose! The girl liked to catch him off guard, he couldn’t help it!

However, truth be told, she kept him on his toes. Challenging him was her favorite pastime, which, in turn, made him disgustingly horny as the weeks went on. Dealing with his exuberant and oftentimes lewd lizard employee was like walking right into the eye of a storm. She always seemed to be around the corner with her coarse, crude demeanor piercing his bravado like a knife. He didn’t like being so easily influenced by her, so under her thumb.

Although, it was more like between her legs.

“Uh yeah, hey shredder? Cut the leggings some slack. There’s no need to slice up my sick threads like the spirit of Freddy Krueger himself suddenly possessed your hand and told you to go apeshit.”

The monster in question looked up from her thighs, lifting a claw to catch a mangled bit of striped cloth that was hanging. “You inept fool. Why don’t you wear something other than these... _ cleaning rags _ you call clothes. For fuck’s sake, I can’t even take them off!”

He ran his hands over her hips, down to her waistline, and tugged at the zipper hidden beneath her shirt. “Would you look at that— blasted son of a—”

Another laugh. Another spectacular, sickening laugh. “You know what? Fuck it and forget the zipper. Rip everything off. I’m in  _ such _ a mood right now.” She wiggled her eyebrows, throwing her hands around his neck. “And cleaning rags? Might as well call me Cinderella with that attitude.”

Without a beat, the demon scoffed. “In your dreams may you only be called that swindling floozy’s abomination of a name. Pumpkin carriage, my whole ass.”

“Hey, whatever you say Prince Charming.”

He humphed, drawing his attention to more important matters as he lowered his face to her midriff, lifting her shirt up and nipping over flushed skin.

“Shit yeah, rock n’ roll,” Demencia vocalized as the hat between her legs moved down to kiss at the pit of her thighs, just before her clothed sex. She’d been aching and hankering for a good eldritch fix lately, luckily the right guy was here to do the job.

He lifted her leg up, working his way down to her calf and back up to her thigh. His fingers deliberately brushed past the crotch of her leggings, Demencia groaning when he snapped the elastic back. She grabbed his hand and pushed it back down between her legs, bucking her hips when she felt his fingers curl around her  _ insanely _ wet and frustratingly clothed cunt.

“Alright you win, Casanova,” Black Hat professed, taking his other hand and hooking his claws through her pants. “These are coming off.  _ Now _ .”

Demencia whooped as she heard the fabric tear, the remains of her garments being tossed to the side by an impatient Black Hat. Soon after, she felt his teeth graze across the sensitive skin of her mound before he went in, mouth finally meeting her throbbing core.

His breath was cold against the wetness dripping from her— tongue swirling around her slit and drawing out heavy pants— and it mixed so well with the heat mingling between the two that he almost smited himself for enjoying the rasp of her voice when she spoke.

“Missed seeing your little hat down there.” She bopped it and he grumbled, deep baritone pulsing through her body as he furiously buried his tongue in deeper, all the way, Demencia’s eyelids fluttering closed. She felt his hand join, gliding up until it reached her surface, parting the bundle of nerves and grinding against her sensitive spot, fingers stroking her clit until she bit down on her knuckles and sucked in a breath.

“Oh wow, fuck me. To hell,” she gasped. “Fuck me in hell.”

Stopping to relish in the satisfaction he gave her, Black Hat glanced up with a devilish grin, teasing her nub with the tip of his thumb, one finger pumping in and out until he heard her growl in frustration. Shooting him a very amusing yet deathly agitated look, Demencia tried to kick his head with her foot, having to sort of angle her body so she could reach him. Her efforts were marked unsuccessful as soon as he caught her ankle, tickling where he knew she was sensitive. The girl shrieked, wriggling on his desk in a fit of giggles while she clutched at her chest. Underneath the brim of his hat, eyes dark and taunting, Black Hat licked his lips and chuckled.

Once she recovered from his onslaught, Demencia sat back in a business-like fashion, arms behind her while they propped her up. The moment prior seemed to be forgotten, all traces of laughter gone as she eyed him up.

“Don’t make me come down there, boss man,” she spoke with such a vindictive force so different from earlier that he could practically taste the gunfire in her voice. She surprised him by pinching his cheeks, somehow getting her legs to tighten around his head. “You know I’m feral.”

Deciding to let up on her just this once, he dove back in, running his criminally talented tongue up and down the inside of her folds and watching her face cutely scrunch up in pleasure. He gripped her ass, mouth fully closing around her as he sucked and nipped at the bundle of nerves, knowing full well that Demencia had a thing for his teeth, especially down there.

_ Demencia Demencia Demencia. _ Her name was like an echo in his mind, and all he could do was angrily listen. She was beautiful and wild under his gaze, looking down at him and tracing the outline of his face with careful hands. Her hair was like a waterfall, spilling over the both of them in color and at that moment Black Hat felt a dangerous skip of something in his chest, hoping it was just another one of those nuclear flem balls he’d been hacking up lately.

Before he could give it anymore thought, a sudden squeak could be heard off to the side of the room, a scratchy, high-pitched sort of whimper that almost drilled holes into his skull just by the sheer, nervous frequency of it. The sound was accompanied by a booming crash against his new hardwood floors, which would most likely cost him another arm and a leg (literally) to repair.

Demencia— in the middle of trying to rip his coat off— came to a complete standstill when she heard the strange series of noises, raising an eyebrow. Black Hat jumped up, head swiveling backwards and eyes emitting flames while she sniffed, nostrils flaring at the bagged intruder cowering in the corner. Doctor Flug gulped.

Demencia smiled suggestively and without shame. “Sorry doc, booty call in session.”

She demonstrated by slinging a leg around Black Hat’s whole body, wrangling him towards her. He stumbled between her legs again, antennas upturned in the most unnerving expression at Flug’s feeble figure.

For a moment the doctor was in gridlock position, one foot past the gaping doorway that he should’ve thought twice about walking into, arms up and outstretched as if he were shielding himself from a ruthless assailant out for blood. His new invention seemed to cover the floor beneath him, what was left of it in pieces that rolled and clattered underneath Black Hat’s desk. It used to be another ray, this time enabling a hero defenseless with subzero temperature abilities worked into it, but Flug’s efforts appeared to be futile as he mournfully watched it erupt in a mini conflagration on the floor, flames flickering and burning through the wood. A perfectly good arm and leg wasted.

Without a word, he slowly moved backwards, testing the waters, arms lowering to close the door behind him. However, before he could vamoose his caboose out of there, his boss spoke, voice alarmingly calm.

“Flug,” Black Hat said.

“Sir,” Flug responded.

The demon used his thumb to wipe his mouth, pulling Demencia closer. “When I’m finished here, I’m going to lop off those sorrowful excuses you like to call your kneecaps and use them as my new office doorknobs.”

He was stone-faced and resting a hand against the curve of Demencia’s hip, although Flug thought that he saw a flicker of a smile cross his row of canines as she nuzzled her face into his neck, fingers trailing to the waistline of his slacks, but that diminished as soon as it came.

The doctor nodded understandingly. “I know sir.”


End file.
